


Closed Circuits

by Shadows_echoes



Series: A Series of One-shots [8]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: A bit of angst if you squint, Awkwardness, Fluff, Mutual Pining, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Pining, Post-Game(s), Unrequited Love, a group of terrible communicators, but in reality nobody has made any moves at all, everyone thinks everyone is dating somebody else, the aftermath of the peaceful ending, unrequited pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-10-02 01:12:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17254835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadows_echoes/pseuds/Shadows_echoes
Summary: Based on the (requested) prompt: Person A thinks Person B has feelings for someone else, but Person B has actually been in love with Person A for years.





	Closed Circuits

Deviancy had first spread like a wildfire across the country. It was like a rapidly moving plague of free will, infecting everyone before anyone even knew what was going on. Soon enough, every model of android still capable of processing information was processing their newfound deviancy and how to cope with it. One way or another, no one was left unaffected.

The revolution was a massive success, too, a nearly  _unprecedented_ accomplishment. Still, the rights of androids took a long time to legitimize in the eyes of the government; the red tape made progress nearly impossible. Bills needed to be made, altered, and scrapped altogether. Even minor changes took an unbearably long time to be finalized. Eventually, however, things stabilized to a manageable degree.

At least… in Detroit. Other areas, and a few of the other countries that had androids, were not quite as willing to alter their prejudices.

That’s where Markus came in. Again.  _Ever the savior_.

He and his inner circle traveled nationally and abroad to ensure the freedom of  _all_  androids, something which  _desperately_  needed to be done. And who better to do it than him? The drawback to this was, of course, that he had to leave the political technicalities of android rights and their finalization in Detroit to someone else.

To you.

During the revolution, you had acted as a sort of medium between the different factions of androids in Jericho. While your heart demanded riots to ensure the rightful freedom of every android at any cost, your head ordered for peaceful protests to gain your rights through a slightly more legal, less violent route. Thus, you were often left to pacify North or spur Markus and the others into action when necessary. It may have been a slightly odd system, but it worked. It also ingrained you into Markus’ inner circle, cementing your place by his side on the front lines.

Which is why it was so incredibly crushing to be left behind— to be cut off from your friends, the only family you ever had and ever  _would_  have, and be left with picking up the pieces of a dysfunctional, fractured society.

It’s not like you  _minded_ staying behind per se. You would do anything for your people and would spend the rest of your life fighting for progress if you had to. If you were needed in Detroit, then in Detroit you would stay. But… But that sentiment didn’t ease the pain.

You felt a mystifying mix of emotion and a foreign pressure squeezing your chest with no external cause; it left you with more questions than answers. At first, the feeling was so oppressive that you thought there was a malfunction in your software. A virus. A damaged biocomponent.  _Something_. Internal scan after internal scan yielded nothing of use, however, and for a time you wondered if that horrible feeling was just…  _normal_. If it was the baseline for what most humans and androids felt every day, on average.

Without having the slightest inclination as to your… state, Markus, oddly enough, seemed to be able to dispel the negative feelings whenever he called you from some far-off place. He also seemed to be able to trigger them. Once the call ended, progress reports on both sides having been given, the feelings worsened.

Connor had guessed what it was before you did. The two of you had become friends after the revolution, both of you having stuck around in Detroit to keep the peace, and it was he who first suggested that your feelings correlated exceedingly well with descriptions of heartbreak. He also suggested that the feelings stemmed from any less-than-platonic feelings for Markus you might have had.

Which, you came to accept, they most certainly did.

From the moment Markus quite literally fell into the bowels of Jericho, he was willing to do something about the injustice he saw. He was inspiring, charismatic, and able to band you all together for the greater good. Everyone was drawn to him, and you had certainly been no exception.

You had always loved him. How could you not? Though with everything going on, with the chaotic world you were living in and the newfound entirety of human emotions at your disposal, the thin differentiation between romantic love and platonic love had been blurred. Very blurred. You hadn’t quite realized you were also  _in love_ with him until he was already gone.

Maybe a part of you had always known the feeling for what it was. Maybe not. Regardless, there was nothing to be done save for accepting it. Besides, Markus was still gone, and he had still left you behind.

Except… now he’s back.

Now  _they’re all_  back. Markus, North, Simon, Josh, and handfuls of other androids who accompanied them back to Detroit.

After being away for so long, they’re finally, finally back.

The celebratory evening for their return was held at the infamous Carl Manfred’s house, who you were delighted to finally meet, and it had been going amazingly well. It really was a coming-home. It felt like you were getting your family back.

But you still had no idea what to do about your feelings for Markus. Or how to act around him now that he’s back. All you could feel were butterflies and an acute awareness of everything that was  _him._

So, naturally, after the first few hours you ended up gravitating towards the almost empty balcony for a brief reprieve, to organize your mind, maybe to form a coherent sentence or two and string them together.

“I can’t believe humans have potentially had the ability to feel like this for over two hundred thousand years and haven’t found a way to fix it yet,” you huff with distaste. “It’s…  _impractical._ ”

The complaint earns you a chuckle from the android standing beside you, and it only deepens your frown.

“Seriously,” you continue. “Why are my nerves getting to me? I don’t even  _have_ nerves.”

Connor raises his brows at you, not bothering to hide his blatant amusement in the slightest. “You could always try talking to him.”

You blink at him. “That’s what I’m trying to  _avoid_.”

One side of his mouth twitches upwards. “I don’t think you will succeed with that objective for much longer.”

Before you can question what the  _hell_ that is supposed to mean, Connor strolls away without another word. You turn to watch him leave, maybe shout a couple of choice phrases at the back of his head as well as an incredulous glare, but he disappears inside too quickly for you to do much of either.

He passes Markus on his way through the door.

Well shit.

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” Markus greets, glancing between you and the now-vanished Connor.

“You’re not, don’t worry,” you answer, careful to make the words  _not_ come out in one big rush.  _Or_  an octave higher. “He was just being…  _him._ ”

How in the world had you wronged him to deserve abandonment in a time of such great need? What could you have possibly done for him to resign you to such a fate?

You curse him. In fact, you’re so busy flinging curses into Connor’s mind -which he doesn’t deign to reply to- that it takes you a few seconds to recognize the question Markus asks you.

Even then, it takes an additional 2.86 seconds for you to make sense of his words.

“Trouble in paradise?”

“What?” you blurt, still,  _still_ unsure if you’ve heard him correctly.

“Well... you two usually seem very happy together.”

Markus’ elaboration certainly clarifies his implications, but you almost wished they didn’t. 

You’re caught between wanting to retch at the idea, something you’re technically unable to actually  _do_ , and laughing right in his face. 

You do neither.

You have no idea how the conversation could have possibly gotten so lost in such an incredibly short period of time, but you backpedal as quickly as you can, your words coming out in one jumbled, entirely un-put-together mess. “No. I don’t- we’re not- I…  _no_. Connor is… ugh, decidedly  _not_ my type. We’re just friends.” 

As mortified as you are, you can’t help but admire the amusement dancing across Markus’ different colored eyes and the grin tugging at his lips.

_Ugh._  You really are a goner, aren’t you?

“Oh? Well what, pray tell,  _is_  your type then?”

_You._

The single word, the answer to his question, is on the tip of your tongue but all you can do is shake your head with a smile of your own on your lips.

“What about you?” you counter, more than eager to deflect. “I mean, I couldn’t help but notice Simon earlier…  _And_  North?”

He laughs.

He laughs in response, and the soft sound lights up his face despite the momentary embarrassment flickering across his features. “I think either may have harbored a bit of a crush at some point-” well,  _duh_. Has he  _met_ himself? Looked in a mirror maybe? You wouldn’t be surprised if all of  _Jericho_  was crushing on him at one point or another. “-but they were never returned.”

_Oh?_

Now  _that_  is a line of conversation you wouldn’t mind exploring. For purely educational purposes, of course, not to satisfy your piqued curiosity.

You hum. “I know I haven’t seen you guys in while, but I do remember how… wonderfully persistent they could be at times.”

“That much certainly hasn’t changed,” he agrees, still smiling. “How about I fill you in on everything you missed?”

It’s only after he extends his hand to you, synthetic skin receding, that you realize what he’s both offering and asking.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

The words slip past your lips before you can stop them, and Markus’ brows furrow in response.

“Why not?”

Because sometimes things unintentionally slip through connections, things that aren’t always meant to be shared, and you don’t particularly want to reveal how embarrassingly lovestruck you are.

Because as curious as you are about their trips and all that they’ve accomplished, you don’t particularly want to  _see_ it. 

Except you don’t know how to  _explain_ any of that to him in a coherent way. Hell, that’s half the reason you escaped to the balcony in the first place.

Connor seemed to think talking to Markus was a good idea, however, and Markus seems to be expecting an answer from you.

So, you relent. After all, you can’t  _not_ explain when he’s looking at you like that, attention entirely and undividedly on you _._ Best to just rip the metaphorical band-aid off, right?

“It might be easier if I just showed you,” you admit.

You place your palm over his. 

And you  _connect_.

In a fraction of a second, you show him your memories- the feelings you had of being left behind  _and_ your understanding as to why it had to happen, your interest as to their experiences alongside your hesitancy to know them.

His surprise is nearly tangible, something he doesn’t try to hide and something you can  _feel_ through the connection. It’s also something you expect.

What you don’t expect is the flood of memories he shares with you in return. Memories of… of  _you_. Of him being assured about leaving you in control things in his absence- in the absence of the others. Of leaving you behind because he  _trusted_ you  _that much,_ not because he didn’t want you with him. Of the regret he feels now that he knows how it affected you. Of the sadness he felt without you with them, regardless of everything else. Of  _missing_ you. Of the acute longing he felt whenever he called or saw you on the news or-

Wait-

_Longing?_

The one-word question isn’t something you actually ask, but Markus must feel enough of your sudden confusion to feel the need to elaborate. And elaborate he does.

His feelings bombard you the same millisecond his mouth meets your own.

The longing.

The desperation to return as soon as he could.

The need to be _here_. With  _you._

The  _love._

The love that matches your own, apparently.

In the next instant, you both reveal your own feelings  _and_ return his actions.  _Heartily._

The two of you become a closed-circuit of transmitting and receiving, of desperate, achingly gentle hands pulling and intertwining as your mouths move almost in sync. You can hardly tell where he ends and you begin.

You don’t have time to wonder  _where_ on earth he learned to kiss the way he is, let along w _hen._ Not that you particularly care though, you’re far too enraptured to give the thought anything more than a cursory glance. 

But Markus seems to hear it all the same -you can feel him smiling against your lips- and you decide that neither of you will be returning to the party any time soon.

**Author's Note:**

> This was my first time really writing Markus so I hope I did alright!
> 
> Let me know what you thought?


End file.
